A Bet won or Lost?
by Skarsgaard
Summary: Spot and Race get into a fight. Enough said, inspired by a chat with Betchya Flick the Lighter


**A bet won or lost?**

It was a lovely day in lower New York. The birds were singing, the wind was blowing, the Newsies were hollering out the headlines. Hold on a second…..hmmm……..I'm not hearing any headlines being yelled out……instead…..instead I hear taunting shouts……it sounds like a fight! Lets go find out what's happening……….

I run over to the Brooklyn Bridge, and what should meet my eyes, than a circle of dirty, sweating, noisy newsboys. They are all yelling at two shorter boys in the middle of the ring. As I draw closer, I'm rather shocked to see Spot Conlon and Racetrack Higgins fighting. Well. What a surprise. You can imagine how shocked I was at this sight. RACE? FIGHTING SPOT?! Who would have thought……….

"COME ON RACE! YOU CAN TAKE HIM!" Jack Kelly, the leader of the Manhattan Newsies yells, encouraging Race to keep going, even though……..even though Spot has a headlock on him.

I snort and push in to see better, then nudge Blink in the side. Blink is a bit shorter than me, and had blond hair and a eye patch.

"What's going on Blink?" I ask him.

He looks at me, "Well……someone…..I forget who….bet Race that he couldn't whoop Spot in a fair fight." _Here he laughed. I didn't find anything terribly funny about this. _"Well…..you know Race…" _I rolled my eyes. YES, I knew Race. _"He had to accept." _Of course he did. _

I tuned Blink out as he went into the details, and watched the fight. Race had somehow gotten Spot on the ground and was whaling on him. HOW he did that I had no clue. It didn't last long however, as Spot suddenly punched Race in the stomach and pushed him off, then went to beating _him_ up. The newsies, Brooklyn and Manhattan both, cheered the two fighters on. I sighed and looked up at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain.

Race gave a loud 'oof' and I turn my attention back to the fight. Racetrack was laying on the ground, and Spot had just stood up, smirking.

"What's the matter with ya?" Spot asked, looking down at Race, "Can't fight anymore, can ya? Ya meatball. " he taunted

That got Race's temper up, and he launched himself into Spot's knees, knocking him to the ground. I laughed, since I wasn't on either side, and leaned on Blink while watching.

Spot cursed as Race's fist hit his nose, and blood began to flow. Both boys got onto their feet and circled again. The other boys cheered the two fighters on, shouting words of encouragement to them.

"COME ON RACE!" Jack yelled.

"You can beat that WOP!" one of the Brooklyn boys yelled to Spot.

Spot came around with a punch, and slammed into Race's jaw, making his head snap back.

Blink's breath caught. I snort. Jack groaned.

Race stumbled for a second, getting his bearings, then went for Spot's legs again. But this time Spot was ready for him, and dodged it quickly, then came down on top of Racetrack when he hit the ground instead of legs.

"OHHH!" the Manhattan boys groaned.

Spot smirked (and not for the first time) and waited for Race to get back up, but when he did, he caught Spot off guard and wiped the smirk off Spot's face. Just as Race was making good progress a skinny girl with short brown pigtails broke through the ring and started beating on Race, trying to pull him away from beating Spot. I groaned inwardly and leaned on Blink more, until he jumped forward with Jack to pull the girl off, some of the Brooklyn boys help as well, since they wanted it to be a fair fight as well.

"LET ME GO!" the girl hollered.

Struggle as she might, she couldn't get out of Jack's grip, for he had her tightly held in a headlock.

Spot looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and got up, only to be taken down by Race again. Racetrack had stamina, you had to give him that. I found myself wondering who looked more worn out, Spot wasn't breathing as hard as Race, but then again, he had more blood on his face. Race wiped his face quickly and tensed for Spot's blow.

My head shot up and looked around when a shrill whistle sounded down the street. All the newsies froze and looked at way.

"The bulls!" Jack hissed, letting the girl go.

Racetrack swallowed and the band quickly broke up as the police got nearer. Spot wiped his bloody nose and looked at Race,

"This ain't over yet." he said.

"Yeah….I know that….I ain't letting you get away." Race retorted, as Jack pulled him away.

By the time the bulls got there, I was the only one still around. One of them approached me.

"What was going on here?" he asked roughly, fingering his stick.

"Nothing….one of the newsies was caught stealing money from another one." I replied simply, putting my hands in my pockets, and walking off, leaving the cop standing there, with a puzzled look on his face………………………..

The End.


End file.
